


Driving Home For Christmas

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, One Shot, Pre-Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 23:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17069312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: With a snowstorm heading for Virginia, all flights are grounded, and the reader finds herself stranded in her college dorm, facing Christmas all alone.  But Negan is determined to make it home for the holidays and hell, if the cute girl from down the hall wants to tag along, he’s not gonna argue.





	Driving Home For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for @thewalkingdead-imagines ‘Negan’s Winter Writing Challenge’ on Tumblr. My prompt is in bold. I gotta say, this one got away from me a little and it’s kinda long, but hopefully that’s a good thing. You can never have enough Negan holiday fluff! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy…

The corridors were eerily empty as you aimed a kick at your suitcase, huffing in frustration when it teetered on its wheels before tipping backwards and hitting the dusty carpet with a dull thud.  You were alone.  Your dorm mates had all scurried home for the holidays days ago, eager to throw themselves into the loving arms of their families with empty bellies and bulging bags of dirty laundry, but you’d decided to hang on just a little longer, hoping to get all of your assignments out of the way so that you’d be able to enjoy Christmas without the stormcloud of looming deadlines hanging over you.  It had been a good plan, and you’d been feeling a growing sense of achievement as you bundled up the loose pages of your final essay, securing them with a paperclip and a nod of satisfaction, but literal stormclouds had been gathering as you worked and now, with the threat of their onslaught imminent, flights were grounded, bridges closed and you were stranded.

Around you brightly coloured paperchains hung from the ceiling, and snowflakes snipped from fresh white card formed flurries on the beige walls.  Downstairs in the hall, a sparsely-needled, lopsided tree stooped beneath the weight of a collection of gaudy thrift store decorations, and the clock ticked ever onwards, counting down the seconds until Christmas Eve ticked over into Christmas Day.  Unable to face your tiny single bed and bland, soulless room, you left your case by the door, pulling a dog-earred paperback from the front pocket, and slouched back down the stairs to drop onto the sagging sofa in the centre of the hall, flicking open the pages and pretending to read.  It was no good.  You felt utterly desolate and you could still hear your mother’s heartbroken gasp down the crackly phoneline as you’d broken the news to her that you wouldn’t be making it home this year. It had brought tears to your eyes but you’d forced them down, plastering a smile onto your face and injecting as much jollity into your voice as you could muster.  ‘It’ll be fine, Mom. Gives me more time to work so I’ll be ahead for the next semester.  Don’t worry about me.’

 

* * *

Negan was running late.  He’d spent far too long at the airport, praying that they might let something go up, just one plane, anything to get him back to his folks for Christmas, and now he only had a few hours left before dark.  The taxi back to the dorms had near cleaned him out of cash, and he was agitated as he strode back into his room, intent on packing a few extra things now that he wasn’t going to be restricted to hand luggage.  He’d made the decision to drive as the taxi sped through town, coping well with the light snow that had started to fall.  If that old rustbucket could do it, his car should manage just fine, and hell if he was gonna spend Christmas alone when he should be sitting around the table with his family, feasting on his mom’s cooking and falling asleep with a swollen stomach in front of the game on TV.

The cab had dropped him off round the back, so he’d missed the fact that the lights in the large communal entrance hall were on until he cut through that way to get to the parking lot, and the squeak of surprise that cut through the silence halted him in his tracks.

‘What the-’  He turned, eyes scanning the room until they fell upon the dejected bundle of blankets in one corner of the couch that faced him, a messy head of hair and wide eyes blinking at him as they peered over the spine of a book.  He hadn’t expected anyone else to still be here and he found himself frowning as he took a step closer.  ‘What the hell are you still doing here, doll?  Thought everyone would’a left for the holidays by now.’

‘Well, that was the plan,’ the girl muttered, flipping her book closed and shrugging out from beneath her cosy pile, finally giving him a better view of her face.  He recognised her, he realised then.  She lived just down the hall from him, cute little thing that kept herself to herself and stayed out of trouble.  They’d never spoken before but Negan had checked her out once or twice when she’d climbed the stairs ahead of him, hips swaying inches from his face.  ‘Left it a little late to make the journey home.  They grounded all the flights ‘cause of the big storm that’s coming in.’

‘Yeah, I noticed.’  He raised an eyebrow at her, lips quirking in a crooked grin, though it soon fell when he realised how utterly miserable she looked.  ‘So, what?  You’re just gonna stay here and spend tomorrow pouting about it?’

‘What else can I do?  I don’t have a car here and even if I did, the TV said they’re closing the bridge off-’

Negan didn’t have time for this, but her obvious distress was tugging at his heart, and he yanked the folded map from the front pocket of his backpack as he crossed the floor towards her, spreading it out on the coffee table in front of the couch and tracing his proposed route with his finger.  ‘Not if you go round this way, see.  Can run along the edge of the river instead, then weave through open country ‘til you pick up the main road again round about here.’

She was nodding slowly, her brows knitting together as she concentrated.  ‘That’d take you right past my hometown.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Uh huh.’  She pointed a painted nail at a small mark on the map and he recognised it as one of the places he tended to stop off for gas en route.  ‘Do you think-  I mean, do you want some company?  It’s kind of a long drive.’

She was gazing at him hopefully, as though he were her savior, the one sent to get her out of there and whisk her away, and he felt his pride swell as he squared his shoulders.  Hell, he could play the knight in shining armour to her damsel in distress if that’s what she wanted.  Didn’t make any damn difference to him.  ‘Sure, sweetheart, I’ll drop you off. Grab your stuff.  We gotta get going if we’re gonna make it home in time for dinner.’

 

* * *

 

‘So, what’s your name, doll?’ Negan asked once the car was loaded and he’d finally made a start on the long drive.  Heat filtered out of the vents in the dash, defrosting your frozen fingers, and cheery Christmas music spilled from the radio.

You had to stifle a laugh as you shook your head.  Of course, he didn’t even know your name.  You knew his.  He was kind of a big deal, on the college’s most successful sports team and the one responsible for throwing most of the parties in the dorm.  But you’d never spoken before and still he’d let you tag along on his road trip home.  ‘Y/N,’ you answered quietly, your mouth suddenly dry when he glanced over at you, warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

‘Y/N, right.  I’m Negan.’

‘I know.’

He nodded at that, not bothering to question it, and you thought there probably wasn’t a girl in the whole school who didn’t know who he was.  Must be nice.

‘Your boyfriend head back already?  Wouldn’t have thought he’d risk leaving a pretty girl like you all alone when there’s mistletoe kisses just ripe for the taking?’  You knew he was referring to the decision to dangle lacklustre sprigs of mistletoe in the doorways of most of the main buildings on campus, a stupid idea that caused no end of backlogs as people were rushing to and from classes, but his mention of your boyfriend confused you.  You were staunchly single and had been for a while now.

‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’

‘Is that right?’  Another glance your way, and the warmth in his eyes had increased into a simmering heat.  ‘Well, isn’t that interesting?’

You felt your cheeks burn as he turned his attention back to the road, a frisson of excitement springing up in your stomach as you realised that he was hitting on you.  You knew there was nothing to it, that it was probably just his way of passing the time and entertaining himself, but you couldn’t deny your body’s reaction to him.  Each time his fingers grazed your knee as he shifted gear, each time his eyes flicked your way, your pulse fluttered and you had to dig your nails into your palms to distract yourself and keep control.  You were using him to get home, that was all this was.  It was all it could be.  Guys like Negan didn’t go for quiet girls like you.

 

* * *

 

You were making good progress, the car eating up the miles, and Negan finally felt himself start to relax.  He could practically smell his favourite dinner simmering on the hob as his mom bustled around the kitchen, getting ready for her favourite boy’s arrival.  Another few hours and he’d be pulling into his parents drive.  He just had to get Y/N home first.

She’d surprised him, the girl sitting at his side.  He’d always assumed that she was quiet, shy, a little awkward, from what he’d seen of her around the dorm, but, one-on-one with her, she was chatty and funny, and he found himself laughing more than he might have expected.  He kept waiting for the conversation to peter out, but it never did and, as the time ticked by, they talked about their classes, mutual friends, and the towns where they grew up.  He laughed at her taste in music and she teased him when he admitted that he read more comics than books these days.  They had more in common than he’d thought too, her upbringing being pretty similar to his, and he felt himself watching her out of the corner of his eye as he drove, the way her nose wrinkled when she smiled and the sparkle in her eyes as she challenged him.  He’d underestimated her and that didn’t happen to Negan often.

He was so caught up in a discussion about sports teams that it took him a moment to notice that the road in front of him had all but disappeared.  The snow that had been a light dusting when they’d set out was now coming down in thick swirls of white, fat flakes obscuring his view so that he could barely see the edge of his hood.  He gripped the wheel tighter as he slowed to a crawl, leaning forward and squinting out into the blizzard, swallowing hard.

‘Negan?’  Y/N sounded afraid, her voice wavering as she too realised their predicament, and he took a deep breath, grasping on to some faux confidence to reassure her.

‘S’alright, sweetheart.  I’ve driven in worse than this.’  It was a lie and he was pretty sure she knew it, but she nodded nonetheless.

They continued on at a snail’s pace, both peering out into the storm, the snow blindness disorientating.  When a neon sign for a motel cut through the gloom, they both breathed an audible sigh of relief and Negan took the turning without any discussion being needed. The reality that they weren’t going to make it home had already begun to set in, and at that point all either of them wanted was to be warm and out of the path of the chaos.

‘Last room,’ the lady behind the desk informed them, her eyebrows arching as she watched them pulling out cash and credit cards, piecing together the cost of their stay between them.

They battled through the frozen downpour to retrieve their bags from the trunk of the car, slipping and sliding on the ice that coated the parking lot.  When Y/N nearly went down, Negan caught her around the waist, supporting her with one arm as he guided her to their room.  She gasped in surprise at his touch, but went with it, letting herself be propelled forward, hair plastered to her forehead as they burst into the cramped space that would be theirs for the night.

The flickering light cast an orange glow over the dated décor and sagging double bed, and Negan let out a defeated sigh as he dumped his bags on the floor and linked his fingers behind his head, leaning back to stretch his rigid spine.  ‘Shit, doll, I’m sorry.’

Her eyes were fixed on the bed, and she hadn’t moved since she’d stepped into the room, still hovering in front of the door that Negan had kicked closed behind them, her bag clutched in her fingers.  ‘Why?’

‘This was a damn stupid idea.  You’d have been better off back at the dorm in your own bed.  Should’a known we wouldn’t make it.’

Finally she turned her gaze to him, shaking her head slowly as icy water trickled down her face.  ‘It’s okay.’

‘But-‘

‘No,’ she said, her voice stronger this time, more firm.  ‘No, it’s okay, Negan.  I’d rather be here with you than back there alone.’

 

* * *

 

As soon as the words left your mouth, you cringed.  They sounded so desperate, so needy, but Negan barely flinched, giving a sharp nod as he folded his long body onto a wooden chair.  Other than the bed, the only furniture in the room was a pair of those chairs, positioned either side of a rickety table.  A TV sat on a shelf facing the bed, though you doubted whether you’d get any sort of signal with the storm raging outside.

The draught sneaking through the thin nylon curtains caught the door on the far wall and it creaked open, revealing a small shower cubicle, toilet and sink, and it called to you as a shiver ran through you.  ‘Mind if I take a shower?’

‘Be my guest.’

Grabbing your case, you towed it into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind you.  You turned the knob on the shower, watching as it sprung into life, a cascade of cold water tumbling from the head, before sinking down onto the toilet and exhaling loudly. Perfect, just perfect.  You were miles from anywhere, on Christmas Eve, with a man who you’d developed one hell of a crush on over the past couple of hours but that you didn’t really know all that well at all, and you were stuck here.  This was so not the Christmas you’d imagined.

The image of that double bed haunted you as you stripped off your clothes and stepped into the cubicle.  You’d hoped that, by sitting for a moment to collect yourself and take stock of your situation, you’d give the water time to heat through, but it was still cold as it beat down on your skin, raising goosebumps over every part of your body that it touched. Would Negan offer to take the floor and let you take the bed?  That hardly seemed fair. He’d driven all that way and there was hardly enough floor space for him to stretch his rangy body out and get comfortable.  And yet, you were so weary with exhaustion after the tense ride that the thought of collapsing anywhere but on that mattress was almost unthinkable.  Wind whistled in through the gap beneath the door and you were sure that curling up on the carpet would mean steeling yourself against the frigid cold.  So, maybe you could share?  That wouldn’t be so bad, right?  It was a big bed, and you could both roll to the sides and pretend that the whole thing wasn’t painfully awkward.  It was the best you could come up with and, as the water grew steadily colder, you washed quickly and jumped out, towelling yourself dry.

Clad in some comfy tracksuit bottoms and a hoody that you’d retrieved from the bottom of your case, you re-entered the bedroom to find Negan reclining on the same bed that had dominated your thoughts, his head and shoulders propped up against the headboard, as he flicked through the channels on the television, each displaying a snowstorm of their own as the crackle of static filled the room.  When he registered you standing there, he cocked his head, studying you appraisingly, his eyes beginning at your bare feet and trailing up your body, taking his time so that when his gaze met yours, every inch of you was aflame.  An amused grin quirked his mouth as he drawled, ‘Feel better for that?’

‘No hot water,’ you explained, setting your case against the wall and perching on the edge of the mattress, tucking one leg up beneath you to warm your toes.  ‘No TV either?’

He shook his head.  ‘Figures.  It’s pretty wild out there.’

He’d obviously been staring out into the gathering darkness, the curtains left apart a couple of inches so that you could see the flurries of snow that were still falling, and you sighed.  ‘Doesn’t look like it’s gonna stop any time soon.’

‘Which begs the question…’  Negan’s eyes were boring into you again and you fidgeted uncomfortably.  ‘What are we gonna do to pass the time?’

 

* * *

 

Watching Y/N squirm under the heat of his gaze was rapidly becoming one of Negan’s new favourite things.  A delicious tension had sprung up between them since she’d laid eyes on that damn double bed and, though Negan fully intended to sleep on the floor if she wanted him to, he didn’t make the offer, preferring to watch her debate what to do in her head as the evening passed by.  He was flirting shamelessly, he knew, but he just couldn’t help himself.  She was so damn adorable and there was nothing he wanted more than to corrupt her, just a little.

They whiled the hours away playing cards, alternating between talking and sitting in comfortable silence, and, when their stomachs began to growl with hunger, he pulled his coat on and ventured out to the vending machine by the office, returning with arms full of junk for them to feast on.

Shortly before midnight, she yawned, stretching her arms up and tipping her head back, and Negan couldn’t tear his eyes from her.  She was all bundled up in her baggy tracksuit, with the comforter from the bed draped around her shoulders, and somehow that was sexier to him than any little black dress or lacy lingerie.  Maybe it was the circumstances, he told himself, or a little Christmas lust fuelling his fire, but he was seconds away from launching himself at her, consequences be damned.

‘I think I’m gonna turn in,’ she murmured, casting another disheartened glance at the window where the snow was highlighted by the glow of the lights, settling thick and fast.  ‘I wanna be asleep before it turns into Christmas day.’

‘Yeah?’  He had other ideas for how they could see in the holiday, but she was nodding sleepily.

‘It doesn’t feel the same if I see it in from this side.  I like to wake up to it, y’know?’

He didn’t, but he let it go.  He was fighting his own tiredness so he wasn’t going to argue. ‘So, what do we do about the bed situation then, huh?’

He was sure he was smirking, surer still that that must make him seem like a total asshole, and he opened his mouth to tell her that it was okay, he’d sleep on the floor like a gentleman, but she cut him off before he could speak.

‘Guess we’re sharing.’

‘You’re okay with that?’ he found himself asking, surprised.

‘I’m a big girl, Negan.’  It was her turn to smirk now as she threw off the comforter and crawled under the covers, wrapping her arms around herself as they settled around her. ‘Besides, I know you won’t touch me.’

‘That’s awfully trusting, doll.’

She quirked an eyebrow at him, as he stripped off his sweatshirt and unbuckled his belt, pulling his jeans down his legs and stepping out of them, leaving himself clad in only his boxers and a thin t-shirt as he stood before her.  It was damn freezing and he wanted to burrow under the duvet with her before anything vital fell off, but he forced himself to stand there, giving her time to change her mind.  She didn’t.

‘Get in here.’

She turned her back on him as he slid in beside her, rolling on to her side, her hair fanning out across the pillow.  He could feel her shivering even with the inches of space between them and he shifted closer, reaching out a tentative arm to wrap around her waist and tug her against him.  ‘C’mere.’

‘Negan-‘

‘Just let me warm you up, alright?  Can’t sleep with you shaking like that.’

For a moment he thought she might pull away, her muscles tensed as she took in his close proximity, his body pressed to hers, but then she relaxed, and his body heat must have done its job because, minutes later, her breathing evened out and he realised she was sound asleep.

 

* * *

 

You woke to the sensation of soft kisses being pressed to the back of your neck and a delicious shiver ran through you.  A heavy arm was locked around your waist, holding you tight against a firm body that was pressed flush to yours, your legs tangled beneath the covers.  A soft moan of contentment fell from your lips as you shuffled backwards, seeking more warmth from the person that held you, and you traced your fingers over the knuckles that were hanging over your stomach, falling still when you felt them flex.

Negan.  Reality came flooding back and a wave of embarrassment broke over you.  He’d held you through the night, keeping you warm, keeping you close, and he’d obviously gotten so caught up in a dream that he thought you were someone else, mouthing at the skin of your throat, his stubble scratching against you and intensifying the sensation.  He was awake now, you could hear it in his breathing, and you waited for him to realise his mistake and move away, but, instead, his lips brushed your skin again and a honeyed laugh rumbled from his chest.  ‘Mornin’ sweetheart.’

‘Morning.’  The word stuck in your throat and it came out huskier than you’d intended, but that just made him laugh again.  ‘Merry Christmas.’

‘Shit.’  He pushed himself up on his elbow and leant over you, a grin quirking his lips when you rolled onto your back, unable to stop yourself from reaching up to stroke back his sleep-tousled hair.  ‘It’s fuckin’ Christmas.’

‘Yeah, it is.’

‘Hell of a way to start the day,’ he teased, and you batted his chest, squeezing your eyes shut to try to damp down the attraction that was simmering in your belly.  His fingertips danced over your cheek and you sucked in a breath at his touch.  ‘Look at me.’

His deep, gravelly voice would prove to be your undoing, you knew it.  You couldn’t disobey an order issued in that tone, and you met his gaze, falling headfirst into the hypnotic colour of his irises, as they drew closer.  ‘Negan…’

‘What?’  He paused and your heart faltered.  ‘You don’t want this?’

‘I…’

‘Tell me to stop.’  He hovered over you for a beat longer, breath ghosting over your face, waiting for you to tell him no, to push him away, but you didn’t.  How could you?  It was Christmas morning, and you were alone with him, God knows where, and he was warm, and your head was spinning with his musky scent, and you weren’t in control of your senses anymore.  He was.

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, almost too soft, teasing and tantalising, coaxing you out of your shell so that you wound your fingers into his hair and dragged his mouth down to yours so that you could kiss him properly.  You knew then that you were in trouble. Because that kiss had you coming undone, falling apart, begging, pleading for more and it had only just begun.  As his weight settled over you, trapping you beneath him, you gave yourself over to him and let him guide the way, knowing full well that to him you were a fling, a distraction, a way to see in the holiday with a bang.  While to you, he was becoming so much more.

Afterwards, he cradled you close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as your hair caught on his stubble and tickled his face.  You hadn’t picked him as one who liked to cuddle, but you were glad of it.  You felt ragged, messy, like you’d been torn apart and put back together all wrong, and you needed his arms around you to ground you as you regained your composure.  Finally, his fingers slipped beneath your chin, angling your face up to his so he could press a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.  ‘Guess we should check outside.  See if the road’s passable.  Seems to have quietened down out there.’

You nodded, shifting to keep the covers pinned to your chest as you sat up and watched him swing his long legs out of the bed, unashamed of his nakedness as he strolled across the room to his bag and pulled out a change of clothes.  He dressed with his back to you, giving you the privacy you wanted to do the same and, when you were both wrapped up in jeans and jumpers, he finally pulled open the door and welcomed in the outside world.

The snow came up to his knees, blocking the doorway and, when he stuck his head out, he could see that it was banked up around his car, almost completely covering the tyres. There were no tracks, the white pure and unsullied, and he turned back to you with a wry smile.   **‘Well, looks like we’re snowed in.’**

 

* * *

 

Despite his lascivious thoughts the night before, Negan hadn’t meant for it to happen.  Y/N was a good girl and he was pretty certain that she wasn’t in the habit of falling into bed with near-strangers, so he hadn’t intended to take advantage, no matter how much he wanted to.  But waking up with her in his arms, he’d been so overwhelmed by the feel of her against him and, damn, the scent of her: sugar and spice and all things fucking nice.  It had felt like the most natural thing in the world to bury his face in the crook of her neck, feasting on the sensitive skin there.  He’d still been dozy with sleep, but awake enough to hear the moan of pleasure that had escaped her, and it had stirred that single-minded desire to have her that had him rumpling the blankets up good less than a few minutes later.  She hadn’t told him no.  In fact, she’d given herself over far more willingly than he’d ever expected, and he’d watched in amazement as she’d crumbled beneath him, time and time again.  He was good with the ladies, sure.  Great, in fact.  But he’d never had someone as responsive as Y/N before and damn, if it wasn’t just the sexiest damn sight in the world, as she reacted to every touch like he was a master.

She’d been quiet ever since, silent even, as he’d discovered, unsurprisingly, that they were still stuck there.  Christmas in a seedy motel in the middle of nowhere wasn’t high on either of their bucket lists, that much was obvious, but Negan had rallied, determined to keep her spirits up as her bottom lip jutted out in a pout.  He’d talked the lady on reception in to letting them borrow the phone so they could each make a quick call to their families, wishing them merry Christmas and reassuring them that they were okay.  She’d told them that there was a diner just down the road that was open for lunch despite the holiday, and he responded overly enthusiastically, slinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

‘Least we won’t go hungry!’

She’d given him a tight smile then retreated back into herself.  His marks were painted over the skin of her throat, and, when she caught him staring, she tugged at the collar of her jacket, forcing him to look away.  

Back in the room that was feeling steadily more like a prison, he dropped to his knees beside his bag, rifling through it until he found the heavy, gift-wrapped bottle at the bottom. He pulled it free with a victorious shout, and tore the paper away, setting it down on the table with a flourish.

'What’s that?’  He’d finally caught her interest, he realised, as Y/N left her post by the window and wandered over, peering at the label.

'My old man’s favourite whiskey,’ he announced.  ‘Was supposed to be his Christmas present but I figure our need is greater right now.’

She considered that for a moment, her head cocked to one side, and Negan found himself gazing at her, lost in the slight quirk of her lips and the way she narrowed her eyes as she thought.  And then her eyes locked on his and she picked the bottle up, unscrewing the lid and taking a generous swig of the amber liquid inside, grimacing when it burned down her throat.  'That’s better.’

As the alcohol flowed, Negan felt Y/N’s frosty mood gradually begin to thaw.  They didn’t speak, sitting side by side on the bed and taking it in turns to take shots of the liquor that was rapidly depleting.  Neither one of them had eaten much since leaving the college the day before, just the chips and chocolate that Negan had managed to scrounge up from the vending machine, and it wasn’t long before the booze began to take effect.  Negan felt deliciously buzzed, though his limbs were heavy, a golden lethargy settling over him as Y/N leaned against his side, curling herself against him so that her head rested on his chest.  It was the first time she’d touched him since he’d left her in bed, and liquid heat pooled in his stomach as he glanced down at her.  She was watching him, eyes wide, fingers reaching up to scratch over the scruff on his jaw.  He covered her hand with his, lowering his face to rest his forehead against hers, inhaling her whiskey breath as she let out a shaky sigh.

‘What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, doll?’

‘I-I think I’m drunk.’

He scoffed quietly.  ‘Yeah, reckon you’re right about that.’

‘Why did you get me drunk?’  It was an accusation but her tone was mellow, as though she really didn’t mind, but Negan still find himself bristling.

‘I just provided the fuel, sweetheart.  You’re the one who kept throwing it on the damn fire.’

She frowned, opening her mouth as if to argue, before letting it snap shut again, pulling away and nestling back into the crook of his neck, hiding her face.  ‘This is the weirdest Christmas ever.’

‘Good weird?’ he asked, tentatively, testing the water, because ignoring the warmth of her pressed against him was becoming increasingly hard to resist.

‘Just… weird weird,’ she supplied, fidgeting and not really helping matters.  ‘I just…  I’m here with you when I should be with my family, and I should feel bad about that because I don’t even know you, but I know what you did to me this morning and what music you listen to in the car and how you breathe when you sleep, and I like all of those things, and I think I like you, but you’re Negan and I’m just- just me, and I don’t even know what I’m doing right now.’

Hey,’ he hushed her, slipping a finger beneath her chin so he could force her to look up and face him, shaking his head at the anguish in her eyes.  ‘Just go with it, doll.  We’re having fun, right?’

‘Yeah,’ she admitted, ‘but-’

‘And we’re stuck here right now, so we should keep having fun.’

‘But-’

‘What is it, doll?  What’s really bothering you here?’

‘I just told you I liked you,’ her voice wavered as she spoke, full of drunken emotion.  ‘And you just told me we’re having fun.’

‘What do you want me to say?’

 

* * *

 

You shook your head in disbelief.  If he didn’t know what you needed to hear from him then you certainly weren’t about to put your heart on the line and spell it out for him.  Instead, you tossed your hair over your shoulder and slid from the bed, pausing to pull on your boots and coat before storming out of the room and into the snow.

It was hard going, the snow so high that it soaked through your trousers, and in seconds you were a freezing cold, teary mess as you forged ahead, with no clue where you were going.  You’d needed to get out of the room, to get away from Negan and the effect he had on you, and away from the whiskey that was amplifying your emotions.  You’d barely made it out of the parking lot when you heard him shout and whipped around to see him ploughing through the drift behind you.  

‘Go back, Negan!  I want to be alone, okay?’

‘Can’t let you do that, sweetheart.  It’s cold as shit out here and we have no damn clue where we are.  Can’t just let you wander off!’

‘I’m not your problem!’

‘Yeah, you are!’

You growled in frustration as his long fingers reached for you, but instead of towing you back the way you’d come as you expected, he crashed against you as his foot caught on something hidden beneath the covering of white and he lost his balance.  His weight was too much for you and you crumpled, collapsing to the ground with him on top of you, the snow closing in around you as you ploughed through it.  ‘Negan-’

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.’

‘Shit, doll, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine.  It’s just- It’s fine.  Just get off of me, please, so I can-’

‘No, I mean it, sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere.’  He shifted above you so that he was laying in between your legs, his elbows planted either side of your head.  ‘Why are you running away from me?’

‘Because I like you!’  You shouted the words in his face, though the snow swallowed them up and made them sound weak and pathetic.

‘And what’s so bad about that?’

‘Because you just to have fun!’

‘And you’re not fun?’

‘No, I am fun, but I don’t do fun like we did this morning without getting some sort of indication that maybe the guy I’m doing it with likes me too, and you just want fun without the rest of it and-’

‘You talk too much when you’ve been drinking, you know that?  That’s something else I’ve learned about you.’

You fell silent, your brow creasing as you processed his words.  ‘What else did you learn?’

‘That you support the worst football team in the country,’ he teased, lightening the atmosphere with his crooked grin.  ‘That your favourite meal is your mom’s pot roast.  That you used to draw 'til you broke your wrist and now you can’t grip the pencil right.  That you miss it, even though you pretend that you prefer reading now.’  His eyes softened, and your breath caught in your throat when he brushed the hair from your face.  ‘I know you gasp when I kiss you right beneath your ear here.  I know you shiver when I brush my fingers over your waist.  I know you’re pretty damn amazing, but you hide in your room the whole time and don’t let anybody see this side of you.  I know that’s a damn waste.  And I know that I like you more after less than twenty-four hours than I’ve ever liked another girl, maybe ever.’

For a moment you just blinked at him, cheeks flushing with heat, unable to believe that he could possibly mean a thing he’d said, though his eyes were telling you that he was sincere.  ‘Why didn’t you say anything before?’

‘You didn’t give me much of a chance,’ he pointed out.  ‘And it’s only been a day.  Figured we needed to slow things down a little bit.’

‘This morning didn’t feel slow.’

‘I know.’  He had the grace to look a little bashful.  ‘I might’a gotten a little carried away.  You’re sexy as shit, sweetheart.  Drove me crazy sleeping next to you all night.’

You didn’t need to hear anymore and you reached up to lace your fingers at the back of his neck, pulling him down so you could lose yourself in his whiskey kisses, the feel of his mouth on yours more intoxicating than the alcohol warming your body, despite the bed of snow where you lay.  With your inhibitions lowered and his words ringing in your ears, you might have let him take you right there, but he pulled away, finally registering the damp chill penetrating his clothes and realising that you must feel even worse.  ‘Don’t stop.’

‘C’mon, doll.  We need to get you up.  Gonna catch your death laying down there.’

‘Are we going back inside?’ you asked as he eased himself upright, pulling you to your feet, and he shook his head with a grin.

‘Hell no.  Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.  Let’s go find that diner the old lady was talking about.’

‘Right now?  You’re serious?’

‘Damn serious,’ he insisted.  ‘I’mma take my new lady on a lunch date.’

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t the most traditional Christmas dinner.  They ordered up the biggest stacks of pancakes that Negan had ever seen and Y/N impressed him when she put away just as much as he did, settling back in her seat with a contented sigh and rubbing her bloated stomach in satisfaction when she’d scooped up every last drop of syrup on her finger.

And after…  After, he walked her back to the motel, her hand clutched tightly in his, and, as soon as they were through the door, he had her backed up against the wall, his fingers tangling in her hair as he devoured her, his appetite sated by the meal but his hunger wild and desperate.  She felt light as air as he hoisted her up his body, groaning when she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, holding him tighter, until they tumbled onto the bed with their limbs interlocked.  

And this time when it was over, she didn’t go silent.  She was still with him, present, as her body hummed in contentment, smiling dreamily at him as he wrapped her up in his arms.  ‘This might be the best Christmas ever.’

‘Yeah,’ he murmured, his eyelids growing heavy.  ‘I think you might just be right about that.’


End file.
